Monday, December 01, 2014

A spectre is haunting Israel— the spectre of Judaism. All the
descendants of Israel's Founding Fathers have entered into a holy
alliance to exorcise this spectre: Academics and Intellectuals, Major
Generals (ret.) and Winners of the Israel Prize, Socialist Ideologues
and Post-Modern Cosmopolitans, Haaretz and Channel Two.
Few are
the parties that have not decried as Fascist and Medieval, Benighted and
Racist the upsurge in expressions of Jewish Identity and Spirituality
that has marked this country in the past two decades (especially during
the difficult days this past Summer). The Israel Democracy Institute convenes emergency conferences to deplore (and stop) the invasion of Public Space by Jewish Tradition, and and by references to God. The Council on Peace and Security has set out on a nationwide series of open meetings, and fora, in a desperate effort to stop the increased presence of Religious and Traditional soldiers in the army, lest they fomentb a putsch against the government. War hero, Lt. Col. Ofer Winter, has been passed over for promotion.
His crime? He had the temerity of invoking God's Name in his battle
orders, and for quoting the Bible. The latest spat over the Jewish State
legislation (which is really much ado about nothing- as noted by Haviv Rettig Gur)
is merely the latest lightening rod for a broader phenomenon. All told,
the reactions to the spectre of Judaism verge on the hysterical.
Upon
careful consideration, they have serious reasons for concern. The
children and grandchildren of the Founding Fathers of our country are
losing their grip. They no longer control the Knesset. They no longer
have a lock on the media (though, they are doing everything to block
competing voices, such as Israel HaYom and Arutz 20). From their
redoubts in academia, culture, and the Justice system they still sally
forth to protect their ideals and to declare that everyone has the right
to their opinions. Anything that does not pass muster with them:
Patriotism, Religious Faith and Observance, Jewish Historical Awareness,
Jewish Literacy, is excoriated as jingoistic, regressive and (the
ultimate condemnation): Destructive of Democracy. This latter is a
brilliant tactic, by which a system of government is replaced by a
specific set of unnegotiable values, dogmatically interpreted and
applied. (I guess many have never read Ralph Waldo Emerson.)
In
their hysteria, the children (and grandchildren) of the gods betray the
fact that they are fighting a losing battle. There comes a time in the
life of nations, that the founders cede dominance to others. It happened
in the United States in the 1820's. In his magisterial study of Andrew Jackson,
historian Arthur Schlesinger Jr., describes how Virginians and (to a
lesser degree) Bostonians strove mightily to maintain their control over
the nation that they (and their fathers) had founded. They sought
control of its resources, its policies, its values and its culture. They
saw all of these being usurped by the uncouth pioneers on the western
fringes of the country. These were represented by their bête noire,
Andrew Jackson (himself, ironically, a Virginian). As Schlesinger
notes, the declining elites made their last stand in the Supreme Court.
In the end, they failed.
The Founders of our country achieved
unbelievable things. We are beholden to them, and must cherish and value
how they created a flourishing Jewish homeland after two millenia. They
were able to do that, in part, because they were driven by a profound
Jewish identity, that was rooted in Jewish Literacy and in loyalties
they absorbed from the world of faith that they, themselves, rejected.
Their achievements were predicated upon that rich identity. They did not
think it necessary to instill the country's culture with that which
they possessed (as Yaakov Hazan sadly noted).
The resurgence of Jewish identity and spirituality that started in the
nineties of the last century, that is borne by religious and traditional
sectors of society, is a response to a deeply felt need that the
founders failed to bequeath to the country they founded.
Their
children filled that void with a different vision. The people want their
roots. The people want to be Jews and Jewish Jews. Indeed, 85% of Israeli Jews
believe in the same God that the above noted groups would banish from
the scene (and who, tragically, is not well served by many who claim to
represent Him). Fear of the spectre of Judaism is, thus, justified on
their part.
The Jewish State, indeed, is on a powerful path to being more profoundly Jewish than ever before. With the help of God.

Friday, November 21, 2014

When the sons of Aaron, Nadav and Avihu, died the Torah states (Lev. 10, 3): Then Moses said to Aaron: 'This is what God has said: I will be sanctified through those that are near to Me,
and I will be glorified before the entire nation.' And Aaron was silent (וידום אהרון). Why was Aaron silent?

The question arose this morning, as I made a shiva call to the family of Rav Moshe Twersky זצ"ל הי"ד. I mentioned to a member of the family, that I wish I had something smart to say, at such an excruciatingly painful time. The response was: 'VaYidom Aharon--Aaron was silent. I don't think Aaron was silent because he was such a Hakham,' they said. 'I think it's because there are situations in which there is absolutely nothing that one can say.' And, that is precisely what Jeremiah said (Lam. 3, 28): 'Let him sit alone and keep silent, for He has laid it upon him.'

As I was leaving, it occurred to me that while silence might be the appropriate response for those who knew, loved and admired R. Moshe, it's not the only response.My reason for thinking derived from a lecture that Mori ve-Rabi R. Joseph B, Soloveitchik zt'l, R. Moshe's grandfather, almost forty years ago.

It was Saturday Night, following Shabbat Parshat Hayye Sarah. The Rav drew our attention to second verse in the Parsha (Gen. 23, 2): 'Abraham came to eulogize Sarah, and to weep for her.' Abraham's behavior, he observed, is unusual. Normally, when a person dies, those who mourn for him or her are overwhelmed with grief and can do nothing but cry from the depth of their souls. Only after time passes, can one have the perspective that is necessary for eulogizing a person. Hence, the Rav observed, the practice was always to hold eulogies only at the end of the thirty days of mourning.

Why, then, did Abraham deviate from the normal way of things?

He did so, Rav Soloveitchik explained, because Sarah was not just his beautiful wife. She was the Matriarch of the nascent Jewish People. She was an equal (and, more than equal) part of creating the 'Covenantal Community,' dedicated to the worship of the One God, out of which the Jewish People emerged. However, she was an exceedingly modest person. Few really knew who she really was. They did not know of the extent of her activities. They did not know, as Rashi observed, just how many people she brought under the wings of the Divine Presence.

Abraham felt that he had to inform people who his remarkable wife was. He had to set aside his overwhelming grief, and tell them how noble and devoted, God fearing and compassionate, Sarah was. He had to let the world know so that others would understand not what Abraham and Isaac had lost, but what they themselves had lost. Only once he had done that could he allow the pain and grief that churned within him to explode. Only then, did Abraham break down in tears and weep.

In that respect, I would like to share what I knew about R. Moshe Twersky.

While I have known R. Moshe Twersky zt'l since we were teenagers, we were never close. Moreover, we had not had any regular contact in almost thirty years. However, there were many years in which our lives' trajectories overlapped and we interacted frequently. Those interactions gave me both an insight into who he was, and anticipated who he would become.

Much like his father, my teacher Rabbi Professor Yitzhak Twersky, R. Moshe was extremely reserved. Yet, my earliest memory of him is rooted in a very unreserved circumstance. One of the highlights of the year for the Boston Jewish Community was Simhat Torah night in Brookline. Jews from all over the Metropolitan area would come to dance at the two Hassidic synagogues in the area, that of the Bostoner Rebbe and that of the Talner Rebbe, presided over byR. Meshullam Zushya Twersky זצ"ל. Those 'in the know,' knew that there was something beyond unique about Haqafot at the Talner's. The intensity of the spirit and the dignity of the dancing were indescribable. By the time I started attending, the Rebbe was ill, and the synagogue was presided over by his son, Professor Twersky. His sons, R. Moshe and ייבלחטו"א R. Mayer, managed the dancing. I can still remember R. Moshe, with a smile on his face, pushing people into the concentric circles that filled the small shtiebel. His smile revealed the intense purity of his Avodat HaShem (Service of God), something that would be much remarked in the coming years.

Early on, it became obvious to all of us who studied with Rav Soloveitchik, that Moshe was destined for greatness in Torah, and that the Rav was dedicated to cultivating his obvious gifts. His devotion to learning became most evident to me, though, in the mid-1970's. At the time, I was living in Cambridge to pursue my doctorate with Professor Twersky at Harvard. R. Moshe was completing a BA there. It would be an understatement to say that he not enthused about this. His heart and soul were totally absorbed with traditional Torah Study. However, he was also a devoted son. Since his parents desired that he get a college degree, he did so and superlatively. What was incredible, though, was how he organized his 'college time.' In between classes, he had round the clock learning sessions with friends at Harvard and MIT. His apartment often had the feel of a Bet Midrash. On Thursday nights, I studied with one of his roommates into the wee hours of the morning. R. Moshe, always deep into his own learning, would unhesitatingly answer any and all questions we might pose. His style was terse, but gracious. It was clear that he was not only becoming a tremendous scholar. He was also marked to be a remarkable, inspiring teacher.

Finally, R. Moshe was a person of incredible integrity. He was, to invoke the image coined by his grandfather, Halakhic Man. I once happened to be in Rav Soloveitchik's apartment, waiting to meet with him. In the ante-chamber, R. Moshe was deep in discussion with his dear friend and Havruta, R. Chaim Ilson. I though they were discussing some abstruse halakhic issue. I soon discovered that they were trying to determine what should be done with an item that had been misplaced and found by one of them. The discussion was on the highest level of Talmudic analysis. The subtext was just as impressive: what is the most correct action vis-a-vis the owner. Now the item was not a very valuable one. I'm not sure whether the owner actually missed it. What was important was the intensity of the lesson that Rabbis Twersky and Ilson conveyed. The Torah is the only guide to Life. Only deep understanding thereof can provide that guidance. There are no half measures in one's service of God. One must fulfill all of one's obligations to both God and Man.

*************************************************

The many tributes that have emerged this week, from friends and disciples alike, confirm all of the traits that R. Moshe Twersky evinced so long ago. As a person who lacked facon, too few were aware of the greatness that passed among them. Hence, those who did

have the privilege are duty bound to do so. In doing so, they will be fulfilling Abraham's mandate, and that which Moses told Aaron (Lev. 10, 6): 'And let your brethren, the whole house of Israel, bewail the Fire which God has kindled.'

Sunday, July 06, 2014

We unequivocally condemn the horrific murder of Mohammed Abu Khdeir. It
was unjustifiable under any circumstances. The killing was reprehensible
and we hope that the criminals who did this sickening act are found and
prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

Israel is a country run by the rule of law. There are reports that Jews
have been arrested for this crime. If a trial finds that Jews are indeed
guilty of this unconscionable killing, our condemnation is redoubled.
The idea that Jews could do such an act fills us with shame and horror.

The people who murdered Mohammed do not represent us in any way. It is
not enough to dissociate ourselves from the dreadful act; we must also
ensure that crimes like this are never repeated.

Just as the appalling murders of Naftali Fraenkel, Eyal Yifrach and
Gilad Shaar do not in any way justify the hideous murder of Mohammed Abu
Khdeir, neither does Khdeir's murder justify the violence, terrorism,
destruction and incitement we have seen over the past few days against
Israelis and Jews.

We hope and pray that everyone, Arab and Jew, lives in peace and security in the region.

Tuesday, April 08, 2014

Recently, I shared on Facebook a New York Times article entitled: Is Belief a Jewish Notion? The article addressed different patterns of belief among Jews (both Traditional and non-Traditional). I found it extremely thought provoking (irrespective of whether I agree with everything that was said there), and hope to devote an entire post to it.

That, however, is not the reason I 'shared' it. I shared it because of the post that brought it to my attention, and the discussion that it engendered. Briefly stated, these people actively celebrated the idea that Judaism has 'matured' beyond the need for an Omniscient, Omnipotent God. Jews are much too sophisticated, it was argued, to have to believe in the historicity of the Torah, and the God who (ostensibly) gave it it. Much ado was made by these posters of a recent article in Commentary, which celebrated something called 'Social Orthodoxy,' which is religious observance based on sentiment, tradition, and/or national identification. It celebrated, and the commenters on Facebook and elsewhere rejoiced, at Judaism without God, as Jews have believed in Him for almost four thousand years. (Never mind that 'Social Orthodoxy' has another name, KaplanianReconstructionist Judaism.)

I had a very visceral reaction to the comments, to wit:

I am proud to be a primitive believer in an
Omnipotent, Omniscient God, who created Heaven and Earth, who brought
Israel out of Egypt, gave us the Torah, and brought us to the land He
promised to our father, Abraham. I would rather, much rather,
struggle with my primitive belief and accept the vastness of all that I
cannot comprehend, than to find myself among those who would
sophisticate themselves to death, and eviscerate the Torah and the
Jewish People while doing so.

After publishing this, I was asked: Why are you being so defensive? It was a good question, and I thought about it over the next few days. Why, indeed, should I react so strongly to such a discussion? After all, I am well aware that myriads of people are atheists, agnostics, pantheists, deists, and what have you. After all, I read what many of them have to say, and I've studied all types of religions. Nothing should surprise me.

So, why did I get so emotional?

Last Shabbat, I realized that I reacted as I did because the participants define themselves as (and claim to represent) Orthodox Jews, and thereby distort the Torah and undermine its viability from within. Judaism cannot survive without God, who sanctifies us with His commandments and (thereby) sanctifies us. To assert otherwise is, and I really don't like to use the word, heterodoxy. Such positions may be principled, reasoned, logically consistent, and coherent. They remain, however, heterodox.

The question remains, though, why the hurt? Why didn't I get indignant?

The answer came to me, when I recalled a passage in the Gemara in Sanhedrin (56a). The Mishnah and Gemara there discuss the procedure by which one tries a blasphemer (מגדף). The rule is that a blasphemer is not definitely liable for the death penalty unless he uses God's ineffable Name (Tetragrammaton). Out of deference for God's honor, when describing the acts of the blasphemer during the trial, the witnesses use a euphemism for God's Name.

The Mishnah states: The entire day [of the trial] the witnesses are examined by using a substitute for the Divine Name, as in ‘May Yossi smite Yossi’ (Where the blasphemer actually used God's Name instead of Yossi). When the trial is over, the accused cannot be executed on this evidence. [At this point], all persons were removed from the court, and the chief witness was told: ‘State exactly what you heard.' At that point, he does so [using the Divine Name].The judges then rose and tore their garments, a tear that may not be resewn.

Now, it makes sense that the proceedings be carried on with a euphemism for God's Name, so as not to repeat the blasphemy over and over. It makes sense one who hears a Jew maliciously blaspheme against God that should tear one's clothes (Sanhedrin 60a). In addition, it makes perfect sense that prior to voting for or against convicting the accused blasphemer, that the judges must hear precisely what he is alleged to have said. But why do the Judges then have to tear their clothes? The witnesses weren't blaspheming! They were simply reporting what they heard.

I recall that Rav Soloveitchik זצ"ל deduced from this odd situation that it is not the malicious act of blasphemy that requires tearing one's clothes in response. Rather, simply hearing blasphemy reported requires that one tear one's clothes in mourning (לא המעשה גידוף מחייב בקריעה, שמיעת דברי הגידוף מחייבים בקריעה).

The Rav's observation lead me to understand why I reacted to these discussions as I did. We really are supposed to be sensitive to God's Honor, and to experience an encounter with disbelief, emotionally (even if it is not malicious in intent). There is nothing wrong with, and certainly nothing to be ashamed of, blanching and hurting when one hears that which one holds most holy attacked, or more insidiously--- blithlely dismissed (and its dismissal celebrated). It's incredible that it needs to be spelled out to ostensibly Orthodox Jews that there is no Judaism without the Holy One, blessed be He, Creator of Heaven and Earth. There are no מצוות without a מצווה. Indeed, mitzvot without a מצווה become mere ceremonials; and ceremionials, Rav Soloveitchik taught us, are fundamentally pagan.

Pesach is all about renewing our covenant with God. In doing so, we would do well to try to implement, in this world, the ideal that Hazal described as achieving its full realisation in the next (Ta'anit 31a):

Ulla Bira'ah said in the name of R. Eleazar: In the days to come the Holy One, blessed be He, will hold a chorus for the righteous and He will sit in their midst in the Garden of Eden and every one of them will point with his finger towards Him, as it is said, And it shall be said in that day: Lo, this is our God, for whom we waited, that He might save us; this is the Lord for whom we waited, we will be glad and rejoice in His salvation.

Friday, February 14, 2014

It is
the fate of careful thinking to be the victim of ever shorter news
cycles. That is probably for the best, as the types of polemics the
engulf the Jewish World, generally, and the Orthodox Community, in
particular, generate far more heat than light. It is, in my view, better
to let things calm down and review this dispassionately; thereby
fulfilling the dictum of our Sages: הוו מתונים בדין.

This
morning, enveloped by a glorious Judean Erev Shabbat, I finally had the
opportunity to review the recent Tefillin Controversy, and many of the
attendant responses. Others, are going to address the halakhic
particulars, so I would like to proffer some observations solely
regarding the ongoing debate that was engendered by the two long
statements that were issued on the subject by HaRav Hershel Schachter
שליט"א.

I will start by stating that I consider Rav Schachter
to be my teacher, by dint of the four years that I was privileged to
learn in the Kollel which he still heads. I revere him as a גדול בתורה,
the scope of whose knowledge, and the depth of whose sincerity and piety
engender, for me and many others, both reverence and respect. Following
in the tradition of our mutual Rebbe, Rabban shel Yisrael, HaRav Yosef
Dov HaLevi Soloveitchik זצ"ל, I maintain my own opinions on many issues;
opinions that diverge from those of Rav Schachter. Nevertheless, these
do not diminish to any degree the honor, respect and deference which is
his due. Therefore, I must start by protesting in the strongest terms
possible the arrogant, disrespect with which Rav Schachter was treated
in the various threads that discussed his responses. I do not care how
strongly one might disagree with him. אין זו דרכה של תורה. Period.

In his letters, Rav Schachter makes three basic points. 1) Not every
learned person has the right to offer a normative Halakhic opinion. 2)
The motivations, and the context, of those seeking radical changes in
Jewish Law are legitimate halakhic concerns 3) Specific changes
suggested by various Feminist advocates are legally problematic. Here, I
will briefly address only numbers 1 and 2.

In principle,
anyone with any reverence for Orthodox Jewish Tradition should have no
issue, in principle, with any of these stated positions. They are bread
and butter for כל בר בי רב דחד יומא. The question at bar, in my opinion,
is the application of each assertion. And it is here, with all respect,
that I find that my position diverges somewhat from that of Rav
Schachter.

If I learned anything from the Rav, it was that a
rav needs to make up his own mind, and bear responsibility for his
actions. It is the responsibility of the מורה הוראה to do his homework,
and rule based upon learning and the specifics of the case before him.
Of course, assuming that one is qualified in learning, has practical
experience, and posseses both יראת שמים and יראת הוראה). The Rav was
wont to chide us for constantly asking him to decide for us, for that
very reason. On the other hand, anyone who has ever read a responsum in
his life knows that even the greatest Poskim consulted with colleagues
on questions of significant import. There is a hierarchy of learning in
the world of Halakhah, one based upon merit and scholarship. (Indeed,
Rav Schachter notes a particularly poignant example involving R. SZ
Auerbach זצ"ל and R. Moshe Feinstein זצ"ל). In addition, it was the Rav
who admonished R. YY Weinberg זצ"ל, author of the שרידי אש, to consult with
R. Chaim Ozer Grodzenski זצ,ל before issuing a far-reaching allowance
that would have facilitated Shehita in Nazi Germany. With no relation to
the rabbis involved in allowing women to wear Tefillin in their schools
(whom I both know and respect), the cavalier way in which many on Blogs
and Facebook have discussed serious, repurcussive changes to Jewish
Life is the antithesis of this.

There are profoundly committed,
learned Orthodox Women who strive for ever greater Avodat haShem, and
their aspirations can and must stimulate the search for (and discovery
of) commensurate modes of religious growth and self-expression, from
within the modalities of Traditional approaches to Torah and Mesorah (a
word that has been abused by some beyond recognition). On the other
hand, Feminism, Egalitarianism and Post-Modernism represent integrated
world views which, in many ways, can or do contradict core Orthodox
axioms. To blithely 'adapt' Rabbinic Tradition to their dictates would
be a violation of the former's integrity, which we believe is rooted in
the Word of God. This, after all, is precisely what the Rav referred to
in his discussion of Korah, viz. the autonomy of Torah.

Learning how to engage them, to see
to what degree they are commensurate and to what degree not, and
knowing where to place the boundaries of that engagement, is a core
challenge to the Orthodox World. Conservative and Reform Judaism are no
longer the challenge to Orthodoxy that they were sixty years ago. The
question is setting the parameters of Orthodoxy. It is my conviction
that these are broader than many would have it, and narrower than many
woould like. As the Rav taught us, at the end one must surrender to the
Will of God. If a position is, as we say, אויסגעהאלטען, those who demur
are duty bound to respect it. If the Torah can't accomodate a desired
end or change, if one wishes to remain within Orthodoxy, then one is
bound to bow to the Torah's verdict.

We live, the Rambam says
(פ"ב יסוה"ת ה"א-ה"ב) in a dialectic of growth and withdrawal, audacity
and surrender. The conditio qua non of all of this is יראת שמים, שמתוך כך אתה מכיר את מי שאמר והיה העולם.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

[I have been wary of getting involved in the latest polemic, this one surrounding the decision by SAR and Ramaz to allow women to wear Tefillin to the school minyan. However, after following the various postings and threads on Facebook and elsewhere, I decided to briefly (with an appropriate amount of adrenaline) summarize my thoughts on salient aspects of the issue. As you can see, I view the specific question as almost secondary to broader issues.]

This issue has generated
so much anger, so much frustration been fed by so much prejudice and
ignorance that I don't know if a reasoned discussion is possible. Still,
a few points to consider:

1) For those who buy into thoroughgoing,
radical egalitarianism and reject Judaism's gender distinctions there
is nothing to discuss. They will aggressively defend any move in that
direction and will vilify anyone who disagrees. Orthodoxy will, I
suspect, find that with those of such opinion there is only a dialogue
of the deaf.

2) There has been much discussion of the description of women who don Tefillin in public as being guilty of מחזי כיוהרא. This phrase does does not mean 'appearance of
arrogance,' but of being presumptuous (just as מחזי כמבשל doesn't mean
cooking, but appearing to cook which will lead to people suspecting
one's actions or possibly leading one to cook). Demonstratively practicing
a mitzva that one is not obliged to do, according to Tradition, impugns
others who do not do so. That, for example, is why R. Israel of Brunn
(Resp. Israel Bruna no. 96) forbade wearing one's tzitzit outside of one's clothes. The category has
ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO with the questioning the motives of the
individual. It does question the sensitivities of the individual who is
ipso facto making a statement about others who do not accept their new
practice. Did
anyone ask other women if they are put off by women putting on Tefillin, with
the implied judgement that they are less spiritual or less committed?.

3) For the same reason, there is more reason and room to
allow women to wear Tefillin in private, not because it is wrong
(necessarily), but because doing so keeps their act of piety pure. That
is true of every Humra, and rabbis should condemn people who use any personal Humra for self-aggrandizement.

4) I am stunned by the persistent, superficial equation of Black Hats and Tefillin. Yes, black hats are
frequently arrogant displays (and prove my point about מחזי כיוהרא). However, wearing a
hat has no religious significance, though it is socially significant as
a sub-group marker of identity. Adding religious obligations (whatever
the legal mechanism in force there, נדר or חובה) is a deadly serious
question. Those who dismiss it in the name of spiritual self-fulfillment
only show that they are insensitive to the long term issue of sins of
omission, when these same women may not be able to maintain their newly found personal obligation. And the reply that there are men who aren't fastidious in their observance is myopic. Since when do we justify religious lassitude by pointing out that of others?

5) I have spent thirty years fighting for the right of
learned rabbis to have their own halakhic opinion, contrary to some Rashe Yeshiva who deny
them that prerogative. After seeing the half-baked, uninformed and
revoltingly disrespectful way in which Facebookers and other Commenters treat
Hazal, the GRA, the Rema, the Arukh HaShulhan etc. I begin to wonder.
Orthodoxy maintains a balance between deep reverence for Tradition and
Gedole Torah, alongside the need to confront new questions and
challenges. R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach zt'l used to predicate his hardest
decisions on the agreement of colleagues. He was a giant of Torah and Piety and Humanity who was attached to the entire Jewish People, from Haredi to Hiloni. Still, he was cautious and responsible when he ventured into new territory. Yet here are people filling the Blogosphere, the Newspapers and Social Media who blithely toss
out established halakhic categories as if they were so much detritus because 'it
makes no sense to me.' As my revered teacher, Rav Soloveitchik זצ"ל once
said, innovations are the lifeblood of the Torah, but they occur within its autonomous sphere. You
engage the system. You don't violate it by judging it because it doesn't
fit superficial, media driven ideologies.

6) At the same time, there is no room in principled Halakhic discourse
for base vilification of either side. Hence, the insidious attacks on
Rabbis Harcstark and Lookstein are equally contemnable.

7) I have no idea if
Rashi's daughters wore Tefillin. I actually doubt it, because Tefillin
was a largely neglected mitzva in medieval France, and Rashi actually
was against women reciting blessings over mitzvot that they weren't
obliged to fulfill. If they did, I am sure they did not where them in
Shul.

8) Rashi's daughters were, on the other hand, learned. This
brings me to another example of herd-like thinking on this issue. There
is no such thing as 'The Forbidden City' of mitzvot from which women are
barred and that must be conquered. Each mitzvah, each obligation, has
its own parameters and dynamic. Talmud Torah for women is easily
allowed. Mitzvot from which women were exempted and for which there are
larger reasons to continue that exemption, are another story. It's not
all of one piece, unless you are determined to impose an egalitarian,
leveling agenda on the Torah. Such a position is, frequently, no longer
Orthodox because it denies the integrity of Halakhah and lacks the
intellectual and spiritual modesty and humility that are its essential
ingredients.